Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
Welcome to Survival of the Fittest, a RPing board loosely based off of Koshun Takami's Battle Royale, with its own unique plot and spin on the 'deadly game'. We've been around quite a while, and are now in our thirteenth year, so don't worry about us going anywhere any time soon!

If you're a newcomer and interested in joining, then please make sure you check out the rules. You may also want to read the FAQ, introduce yourself and stop by the chat to meet some of our members. If you're still not quite sure where to start, then we have a great New Member's Guide with a lot of useful information about getting going. Don't hesitate to PM a member of staff (they have purple usernames) if you have any questions about SOTF and how to get started!

Let the games begin!

Username:   Password:
Add Reply
Words Can't Bring Me Down; B060: Brock Mason - Topic Concluded
Topic Started: Aug 8 2010, 07:20 PM (3,328 Views)
Shiola
Member Avatar
IDDQD
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
((Steven Hunt continued from Feeling Kind of Anxious))

What the FUCK was that!?

Steven Hunt rarely broke out into a run, and when he did it was never pleasant. In a life or death situation on the other hand, the dull pain he always felt while running was seemingly inconsequential. Eric Lorenz, the boy he'd met almost as soon as he awoke, was more or less killed before his eyes. Thrown down a rocky hill onto a chain link fence. There was barely time to react before the killer turned his psychotic rage on Steven, so he took off in one direction, and didn't stop. That is, until he tripped on a root and fell flat on his face. He let out a brief yell that was cut short by his head hitting the ground.

Then... laughing? Who was laughing? Thoughts swam back into Steven's mind with a cavalcade of pain following closely behind.

I've got to get up.

I could be vulnerable.

Who the hell is laughing?


He suddenly became aware of the KA-BAR Knife he'd been carrying with him. Hopping off of the ground, he brandished the knife, looking around for the source of the voice he'd heard moments before. To his left, a boy was sitting against a tree, chuckling to himself with a gun in his lap. To Steven, this guy was either a complete psycho or he just saw Steven trip and fall spectacularly. Steven lowered the knife, noting that if the other student decided to shoot him it wouldn't do Steven much good. Steven brushed his dyed hair out of his eyes and looked down at the boy against the tree. The rush of running for his life had left him a bit speechless, so he had to stare for a moment in order to compose what exactly he was going to say.

"Umm...."

He cleared his throat.

"Hey there... Please don't kill me."
V7:
Erika P. Stieglitz
Tyrell K. Lahti
Caroline S. Ford
Otis D. Bradley
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Shiola
Member Avatar
IDDQD
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Steven exhaled a sigh of relief. It was a mildly stupid question to ask, especially considering that most people probably wouldn't reserve to killing everyone in sight right off the bat, and if the boy in front of him wanted Steven dead it wouldn't have mattered to ask politely in the first place. Still, he stood seemingly awaiting an attack. He slowly put the knife back in his daypack, caked on blood flaking off as he did so. It was only now he noticed the cricket bat sticking out of his duffel bag. He was not much of a fan of the sport, but he now remembered fondly the film Shaun of the Dead. The memory was made bittersweet by the thought of having to brain some of his peers with it.

Examining his newfound surroundings, he saw a mildly dense forest surrounding him that wasn't much different than the forests in Northern Ontario. It was a bit thicker, but it was most likely similar in terms of having to survive in it. Back home (way back home) he did quite a bit of camping outdoors, and knew for better or worse how to deal with survival in a forest. Of course, people weren't trying to kill him back home; just enraged bears. Whether that was better or worse, Steven wasn't entirely sure.

Upon the boy's surprisingly calm comment towards his own demise, Steven raised an eyebrow. He couldn't understand someone not being at least a bit irate that they'd been kidnapped, fitted with an explosive collar and left to die on an island. Shaking his head, he couldn't help but chuckle at the boy's placidity. Cracking an almost invisible smile, he responded.

"Umm... sorry, you seem a bit calm about... uhh.... this whole thing. You're just ready to die like that?"
V7:
Erika P. Stieglitz
Tyrell K. Lahti
Caroline S. Ford
Otis D. Bradley
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Shiola
Member Avatar
IDDQD
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Steven took a step back as the jock in front of him slipped into a brief fit of rage, tossing the manual for his handgun in Steven's direction. Adrenaline still in his veins, Steven was able to catch it as it was fluttering in his direction. It appeared that he was armed with a Smith and Wesson Sigma 40P. Smith and Wesson weren't particularly known for the quality of their semi-automatic pistols, moreso their revolvers thanks to Clint Eastwood's Dirty Harry. Still, having a vested interest in firearms since he was a preteen, Steven had a decent base of knowledge in the subject. It always came as somewhat of a shock to him that a lot of people still had very little clue how guns worked, and he was still even more astonished of the amount of people who were actually able to effectively use firearms on the island.

Looking down at the manual, then at the boy in front of him, Steven smiled. It would seem that he was more or less the perfect person to find to help learn how to use the gun. Living in the United States of America did have it's upsides - the lax gun laws compared to Canada meant that Steven had quite a bit more fun at shooting ranges than he did back home. He'd shot Glock handguns, a Colt M1911, a Beretta M9, a Desert Eagle, and a few revolvers. The guys at the range basically picked out most of the guns that people would see in television, movies, or on the belts of police officers - so they'd be more inclined to want to shoot them.

Although as much as Steven would be able to help him use the gun, he wasn't sure he wanted to. As of right now the boy in front of him was basically unarmed - he didn't seem to know how to load or cock it, so that was one less student on the island with a firearm and a survival instinct. At the same time, doing this guy a favor would mean one more friend on the island. A large, imposing friend with a gun. The thought also crossed his mind, although it bothered him to think this way, that with this jock beside him he wouldn't appear to be much of a threat and much less a target.

Before he could even attempt to help, Steven had to calm this other guy down. Find some sort of common ground. He'd never really fit in with the athletic crowd, and in fact had probably made enemies out of quite a few of them. Still, this wasn't high school anymore. Generally in life threatening situations people tend to band together significantly more. Steven took a quick glance in the manual to make sure nothing was particularly out of the ordinary about the operation of the gun - anything that might throw him off. From what he could tell it was basically a Glock clone. Glock pistols essentially were all extremely similar in design and were used by most police forces simply because they were reliable and easy to use. On the basis that it was a gun he'd practically used before, Steven felt very confident explaining it's use.

"Hey.... man, I think..."

Steven cleared his throat and spoke up, breaking the silence left by the other boy's bout of anger.

"I think I can show you how to use it. I've been to a bunch of shooting ranges, and I know a lot about guns; and honestly, it's really not that tricky once you get used to it."

He closed the manual and slid it into his jacket pocket for the time being.

"...and as much as you think that nobody's going to help you; you're a human being. Your life has value whether you realize it or not. You and I are in the same crazy situation and as someone who considers themselves a decent human being I couldn't live with myself if I just fucked off into the wilderness and left everyone else to die. What I'm saying is - if you want me to, I'll stick around. If not, we'll go our separate ways and hope we don't run into each other in worse circumstances. "

It was only a slight hope that the other boy would actually take him up on his offer, but it was one Steven held onto.

V7:
Erika P. Stieglitz
Tyrell K. Lahti
Caroline S. Ford
Otis D. Bradley
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Shiola
Member Avatar
IDDQD
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
Voices emerged from the forest. The first one was a shout, probably not the smartest thing to do. The second came as a soft greeting. Steven turned from Brock to face the direction of the voices, and two girls came into his field of vision. The first one he saw was too far into the forest to make out, but the second one was considerably closer, and wielding a sword. Judging from her particularly reserved body language, Steven didn't see her as much of a threat. Then again, what fans of SOTF call "players" tend to appear from out of nowhere, so he wasn't in the business of underestimating anyone.

For that matter, why the fuck was he trusting Brock anyways? The guy hadn't given him any reason to other than he hadn't thrown any outright aggression in Steven's direction. It didn't mean he would trust him, let alone with a firearm. It was an off chance that he'd actually go psycho and seriously harm or kill Steven, and the reward of having Brock as some form of protection was greater than the risk. Of course, if Brock handed him the gun, Steven could always just...

No...

Steven pushed the thought from his mind. He wasn't a killer and never would claim to be. It was against everything he stood for. Religion wasn't something Steven had much faith in - he instead believed very strongly in the value of life, and how it needed to be cherished and maintained at all costs. There was no way he would be able to murder someone, even given the situation right now. By the same token... it seemed he would still have to defend his own life as far as he would others.

Or I can just keep the dumb idea in my mind, and spin it around until I go crazy...


Towards the two newcomers, Steven was little more than apathetic. He wasn't sure he wanted to stay around too many people - it was too risky. In any case, he posed a similar question as Brock.

"Yeah.. we're kind of in the middle of something here... in case you guys didn't really... Look, what do you want?"
V7:
Erika P. Stieglitz
Tyrell K. Lahti
Caroline S. Ford
Otis D. Bradley
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Shiola
Member Avatar
IDDQD
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
As much as Steven would like to save every poor soul on the island, he couldn't help but agree. They had nothing that would help either Steven or Brock, and in the coldest way he could think of - they were extra baggage. The girls didn't look like they could hold their own in a fight, and Steven had little to no knowledge of who they were.

Then again, who DID he know? In the time he'd been at Bayview, he'd met only five or six people he could actually have an extended conversation with, and only one he could call a "friend." Luckily for him, he had caught the flu, and was bedridden when Steven last talked to him; he wasn't on the trip. Neither of them would've known at the time, that was probably the last time they would talk... That is, if Steven didn't make it out of SOTF, which wasn't very likely.

I will. I have to. There's no other goal, nothing else is more important than getting the hell out of here.

There was no one on the island he would actually actively seek out. Even if there were, he wasn't even sure he WANTED to find them. It would be almost easier to deal with his friends dying if he didn't have to experience it firsthand. Unfortunately, the reality of the situation was that regardless of where he was or what he was doing, death would be follow him. The stench of death was unfamiliar to Steven, but it was almost nauseating imagining what most of the island would soon begin to smell like... Already distant screams, gunshots, and what he could only assume to be a chainsaw could be heard faintly in the distance. It wasn't cutting through a tree, that was for damn sure. Jesus Christ.

Steven once again turned his attention towards the girls, scratching his neck nervously.

"Well... I mean, I'm not going to tell you not to stick around, but I don't really fell comfortable with..."

With what? They looked scared, maybe a bit helpless. Steven felt helpless too. What the hell do you do in a situation like this? How to you tell someone, who clearly doesn't want to be alone, that you're not going to stay with them? They could die in the next day or two, and even he felt like curling up into a corner and crying at the thought of it. He couldn't imagine telling someone on their deathbed that he wasn't going to stay with them to the end, how was this any different?

It's different because MY life is in danger here. I can get all sentimental about it, or I can think of it in terms of my own survival. I have to.

Still, he really didn't have anything to say to them. Maybe that was it?

"I... honestly don't know what to say. I don't even know what... I just don't know."

Defeated, Steven couldn't bring himself to look at the two girls. The pit in his stomach grew deeper. It would be nice to have a hope in hell of living past nineteen, and maybe have a reason to stay with the girls that wasn't just to have someone to call out to when you were bleeding to death. It would be nice not to have an explosive collar strapped to your neck. It would be nice not to have to watch the people he'd spent the last year around die in front of his eyes. It would be just fucking great if Steven could walk out of this saying that he didn't have to kill someone.

It doesn't look like that's going to happen, does it?
V7:
Erika P. Stieglitz
Tyrell K. Lahti
Caroline S. Ford
Otis D. Bradley
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Shiola
Member Avatar
IDDQD
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
((Writer's block. I'll have a better post when I've got more... ammunition.))

Stoic, Steven looked back at the two girls. Despite his earlier misgivings, he could only help but agree with Brock. They were going to see some fucked up shit in the next few days, and it really wouldn't do Steven any good to be having to help maintain the sanity of others in addition to his own, which at the moment felt somewhat fleeting. It didn't feel right... Hell, it didn't even LOOK good on his part, but Steven also felt compelled to turn away.

"Guys... good luck, but I honestly need to be alone for this. I've seen things already that I wish I never had. I don't want to have to be anywhere near that kind of shit ever again. Try to not lose your heads out here. That's all we can really do."

Before they could respond, he had already started away. Where? Somewhere there wasn't people. Clearly the woods weren't a good idea anymore. Brock seemed to want to find his own way, and Steven wasn't really feeling like testing the guy's patience.

((Steven Hunt continued in It's Hard to Walk Tall When You're Small))
V7:
Erika P. Stieglitz
Tyrell K. Lahti
Caroline S. Ford
Otis D. Bradley
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)
DealsFor.me - The best sales, coupons, and discounts for you
« Previous Topic · The Woods: Coastal · Next Topic »
Add Reply